


Let Go

by heeroluva



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Caretaking, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent never understood the draw of kneeling. Then he met Niko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dellessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/gifts).



Kent saw Lev Nikolaev before the other man saw him. It was hard to miss the man when he was built like a brick house, tall and thick even without his skates and pads, and if not for the grin that stretched across his face and the twinkle in his blues eyes as he shook Kent’s hand, he might have appeared intimidating. On the ice it was still best to get out of the way when the 6’ 5”, two hundred forty pound man was barreling towards you, or you were going to feel it for days, but given that Lev was now on his team, Kent at least didn’t have to worry about that.

What Kent did have to worry about was the way that he wanted to drop to knees for Lev in the middle of the crowded airport, to press his face into the thick muscles of his thighs and let everything else drift away. Well fuck, Kent thought as he pasted on his best media smile. “Welcome to Vegas, Lev.” His tongue fumbled over the name despite his practice. “How was your flight?” Best to keep things bland and professional lest he do something stupid and make a fool of himself.

“Call me Niko. Only mother calls me Lev.” Niko’s smile stretched impossibly wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Think first class seats get smaller every year. Not enough leg room.”

Kent laughed easily. “Yeah, I can relate. How about we find your luggage and get out of here?”

 

The trip to the residence inn that Niko would be staying at until he could find a more permanent residence passed far too quickly even if the silence was mostly filled with Kent pointing out the sights after finding out that Niko had never seen what the town had to offer.

“Addiction runs in family. Thought it best not to tempt fate in a place called ‘Sin City’, plus Coach ran a tight shift. Didn’t want the boys getting into trouble,” Niko had said.

Kent decided he’d make it his personal mission to show Niko that while Vegas might have been full of vices, that there was so much more to it than most people realized.

 

Training camp was brutal as always, a way to weed out those who just weren’t cut out for the NHL and to find those who had the potential, but just weren’t quite there yet. Kent was happy that Niko and the other defenseman seemed to get along well together. Him and Slater especially clicked when they were on the ice, and Kent wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up being partners come regular season.

Niko was… something else. Kent hadn’t been quite sure what to expect when the Aces had acquired him to fill the hole left with McFarley out for likely the whole season (best case scenario), having torn his ACL in the playoffs and then proceeded to play on it for another two weeks. Kent hadn’t known much about Niko before he came here, the older man playing in the Eastern Conference which vastly limited the amount of times they’d crossed paths.

Kent knew he was a good defenseman, having been nominated for the James Norris award multiple times, knew that he was surprisingly fast for a man his size, something that Niko used against people, had used against Kent in the past. But Niko was also getting older, older for a hockey player, and while he’d been a late bloomer, his numbers having improved with age, it wasn’t likely to stay that way.

Kent hadn’t known how quick with a smile Niko was, hadn’t known that he had a penchant for telling the worst jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, hadn’t known just how filthy his mouth was.

And fuck if Kent wasn’t fucked six ways to Sunday.

Last season the Aces had had a deep Cup run, losing in game six of the semi-finals to Boston, the injuries that their players had received being their ultimate downfall. This season was supposed to be a fresh start, the slate wiped clean, but lingering injuries had them pulling up far too many call-ups from the AHL.

It might have only been the first month of the season, but the media was already tearing them apart, and Kent was their whipping boy because obviously he’d lost the spark that had driven the team since he’d joined. Kent knew better than to read his own media, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

After a brutal loss to Anaheim, the dressing room was quiet, and Kent didn’t have it in him to give them a pep talk. His eyes drifted to Willy who’d instantly dropped to his knees at Sandberg’s side, the way his fingers curled into sweat-matted hair, and the way Willy instantly went boneless at the touch.

Kent had never really understood the appeal. In Juniors it had been mostly discouraged, but when Jack had asked, Kent couldn’t say no to that. When he’d been drafted, it had been expected of him, and Kent had gone down on his kneels a few times for Neily, the captain of the Aces at the time, but when it became apparently that Kent didn’t get anything from it, it had stopped. Kent never faulted anyone who needed it though.

His second year as Captain, one of the rookies, Shay, had asked Kent if he could kneel for him. Kent had been more shocked than anything because no one had kneeled for him since Jack, and honestly he’d never considered it. Shay had taken his silence for rejection and before Kent could clarify, he’d run off and the damage had been done. The next day everyone knew that Kent didn’t kneel and that no one kneeled for him.

In a way, it made things simpler. No one could accuse Kent of playing favorites. Most of the guys turned a blind eye when things took a more than platonic shift in the locker room or showers, but some liked to watch. However, as accepting as the world had become of certain things in recent years, ‘cocksucker’ was often still as much of an insult off the ice as on it. While Kent knew it wasn’t expected either way, he couldn’t do that to anyone. (In his darker moments, Kent couldn’t help but wonder if Jack’s overdose had been at least partially his fault, if Jack hadn’t been able to deal with what he liked, hadn’t been able to deal with what Kent was to him.)

“Listen up,” Kent said, drawing the attention of the room. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. We were a mess out there, and we got exactly what we deserved. We keep doing the same thing, expecting different results, and that’s not going to happen. We’re a team, and the responsibility lies with all of us. Every single one of us needs to change, to step up our game if we even want a chance at a cup run. Now, who’s with me?”

There was a chorus of agreements, and Kent forced himself to smile. Apparently he did have a pep talk in him after all, but he knew that the words didn’t mean anything unless they could back them up.

In his hotel room, Kent was half dozing through a marathon of _Chopped_ when a knock pulled him back to some semblance of wakefulness. Rubbing at his tired eyes, Kent opened the door, not expecting to find a serious looking Niko filling his doorframe.

“I can come in?” Niko asked.

Kent wasn’t sure why he hesitated, why he didn’t just open the door. “It’s late,” Kent finally said because it was.

“Not too late. Not yet curfew. Is important,” Niko said.

Kent stepped aside, holding the door open, making room for Niko to enter. As soon as he did, the room instantly felt smaller, Niko’s bulk seeming to take up so much more space. It didn’t make Kent nervous like he thought it should. Kent followed him in, and Niko stood with his back to Kent for a long minute, apparently taking in Kent’s organized chaos.

Finally Niko turned, his blues eyes piercing as he said, “Team talks about you—”

Kent can’t help but roll his eyes.

“—all good things, I promise,” Niko continued with a grin. “Your ego is huge, and your ass is more huge.”

“Hey now!” Kent yelped in mock protest.

Niko just grinned wider. “You’re a good captain. You care about your team. You listen, take care of all of us, but who takes care of you?”

Kent’s smile instantly vanished. “I don’t—”

“You don’t kneel, they say. Won’t let them kneel, they say.”

“They talk too much” Kent snapped, wondering why he hadn’t seen this coming. Maybe he had, a small part of his mind whispered, maybe he’d hoped. After his initial reaction at the airport, Kent hadn’t let himself think about it because it couldn’t happen.

“Not be mad at them,” Niko said, raising his hands in surrender. “I asked. I asked a lot.”

“Ask someone else,” Kent said. “I’m not interested.”

“Liar,” Niko said back so softly that Kent almost missed it.

“You want to repeat that?” Kent said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Niko didn’t back down, stepping closer into Kent’s space. “I called you ‘liar’, Kent. I see the way you look at me.”

“I look at a lot of people.”

“You look at me like I’m a bottle of water, and you just had a two minute shift.”

Well, Kent couldn’t deny that one, letting his eyes rake over Niko’s frame, the t-shirt and thin pajama bottoms he wore not leaving much to the imagination.

“Doesn’t have to be sexual.”

Kent snorted. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

Niko shrugged one shoulder. “You haven’t said ‘no’ yet, haven’t kicked me out. That means something.”

“You’re telling me after this conversation, that if I went on my knees for you, it wouldn’t be sexual?”

“Little boys don’t have any self-control?” Niko said.

Kent wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be mocking or teasing, and while Kent had never before been self-conscious about not being one of the largest guys in the League, he was suddenly more aware than ever of the difference in their sizes. “You going to put me in my place, Niko?” Kent asked, eyes flashing as he tilted his chin up defiantly.

Something went soft in Niko’s eyes as he raised his hand to cup Kent’s jaw, thumb brushing across his lips.

Lips parting, Kent’s tongue brushed across the thumb. He frowned as Niko suddenly backed away.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Niko spread his legs, and offered his hand. “No, Kent. I take care of you.”

The prospect of it shouldn’t have been so appealing, but Kent can’t help but step forward.

“Say yes,” Niko pleaded.

It shouldn’t have been such an easy decision, but Kent found himself taking Niko’s hand, wanting what he was offering. “Yes,” Kent said as he sank to his knees between the V of Niko’s thighs.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a world where (usually) younger players will kneel for older players. It can be sexual or not. The idea comes from the hockey RPF fandom.


End file.
